Pictures of everyone at the farmhouse, pictures of his family laughing, talking, dancing, swimming…living.
Pictures of Tani.
His thumb traced her smiling face, lingering on the sweet curve of her lips, her sad but steady eyes, her wild, glorious, explosion of curly hair…
His Tani. His Bug.
He took a deep breath, locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket and then he turned to face his band.
“Welcome to Mumbai, boys. Shall we make some music?”
CHAPTER 14
TANISHA
“Turn.”
Tani gathered the heavy skirts of her lehenga and rotated on the tiny pedestal in the viewing room. The deep burgundy brocade slapped stiffly against her legs, each movement a reminder of how weighed down she felt.
The celebrity designer she’d chosen for her wedding ghaghra peered down his nose at her like she was a mildly disappointing sketch. Tani wilted under the scrutiny. A second later, she straightened. She was the customer. She didn’t have to grovel for his approval. She hoped.
The mirrors surrounding her reflected a petite bride swallowed by a waterfall of opulent fabric.
“It’s too much,” she whispered, staring at the glossy stranger in front of her. The dark circles beneath her eyes were erased by expertly done makeup, her hair curled in perfect ringlets down her narrow shoulders, her skin buffed and polished to a bridal glow. She should’ve looked radiant. Joyful.
Instead she looked like a zombie bride with highlighter.
“It’s not too much,” the designer said, tone cool but eyes faintly horrified as he scanned her silhouette. “You’re the bride. There is no such thing as too much.”
Tani lifted her gaze to the mirror, meeting her mother’s reflection. Shikha’s frown deepened. “She’s right,” she said quietly. “The material is swallowing her whole. She needs something lighter. More flowy.”
“Flowy.” The designer sniffed as if the word offended him. “She needs more spine.” He jabbed her lightly in the middle of her back, and Tani stiffened instinctively.
Shikha’s lips thinned, but aside from a razor-sharp glare, she held back. In the mirror, she caught Tani’s eye, one eyebrow raised, a silent challenge. Tani wilted a little bit under that look. She did need more spine.
Tani’s phone pinged and she glanced at it. The stupid group, The Shit Stirrers, Rehan had created was lit for some reason. She tapped it open and froze. Rehan’s messageBig Bro is making sexy musicwas tagged with an image of Kabir with his arms around a beautiful woman filled the screen. They stood on the steps of a popular nightclub, his band members arrayed around him, some alone, some with their own partners.
But her gaze was drawn only to him and to the woman in his arms. She looked like the complete opposite of Tani. Tall, statuesque, long, straight hair reaching to her waist in perfect, shining precision. She was gazing up at Kabir with the kind of heat in her eyes that Tani knew all too well. Kabir was looking straight ahead, almost like he was staring right into the camera, and through it into her soul.
She raised her eyes from the phone to her reflection again. And saw the spark that lit up her eyes again. There, she thought, was her spine.
“A softer material,” Tani said softly and when the designer didn’t acknowledge her, she raised her voice. “This doesn’t work for me,” she said firmly. “At all.”
“It’s exactly what you asked for, what you wanted.” The designer’s lips thinned with disapproval.
Tani met her own gaze in the mirror. “And now I want something else.”
The words landed with weight on her heart but she stiffened her shoulders, bracing herself for everything she knew was coming. Her mother’s eyes sharpened but she didn’t say anything.
The designer disappeared into an adjoining room and appeared minutes later with his assistants holding swathes of fabric. He grabbed a soft, dreamy green and grey chiffon swatch, bringing it over to drape it over her shoulder. The skirt his assistant held to her waist was a gorgeous pale sea green brocade with silver work.
“This.” Tani said, looking at herself draped in the colours of the ocean.
“They’re not bridal colours.” The designer frowned as he fiddled with the material, draping it to his satisfaction.
“I don’t care,” she said softly. “Ma?”
“I love it,” Shikha confirmed, coming to stand beside Tani. “But it is a bit simple for what Jay’s family has in mind. I think they wanted colour coordinated outfits and his wedding sherwani is a deep maroon.”
